


die as I stand here today

by flowersforgraves



Category: Campaign (Podcast)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Non-Consensual Kissing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-28
Updated: 2020-08-28
Packaged: 2021-03-06 18:40:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,237
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26153587
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flowersforgraves/pseuds/flowersforgraves
Summary: "Hello, Tiberius," Dref says. "Have you come to drag me back home?"
Comments: 2
Kudos: 11
Collections: RelationShipping 2020





	die as I stand here today

**Author's Note:**

  * For [VenatorNoctis](https://archiveofourown.org/users/VenatorNoctis/gifts).



> Thanks to Ren via Discord for a second set of eyes on this!

“Alastair,” Tiberius says, smiling too widely.

It takes a moment for Dref to realize just how thoroughly fucked he is. He’s stopped thinking of himself as Alastair (Luminaries be blessed), has been Dref for long enough that it’s his name in the true sense, so there’s a horribly dramatic pause before he connects the dots. “Hello, Tiberius,” he says, and he’s very proud that his voice only shakes a little. “Have you come to drag me back home?”

Tiberius stalks towards him. “I was delighted to find out that Orimar Vale, the bastard who killed my dearest little brother, was in Burza Nyth for Aur Piora. And then, to my surprise, I heard that the Broker had outbid us for all information regarding the Uhuru!” He waves his men to surround Dref, as casual as if he’s ordering a drink at a restaurant. “But! I did learn just enough to figure it out. You _left_ us, Alastair, you left the Youngblood name behind, and that is just. Not. Done.” He bites off each word like it’s a bittermelon, teeth clicking behind that terrifying smile.

“F-fuck you,” Dref says, because he is not Alastair anymore. Alastair, surrounded by Tiberius’ friends, would have surrendered. (Alastair, surrounded by Tiberius’ friends, had surrendered. Had surrendered more than once.) Dref Wormwood, who is a pirate and a medic and not a Youngblood, doesn’t surrender.

Tiberius’ eyes widen, almost comically. “Oh, Alastair, you can still surprise me. But that’s not going to save you."

"I'll reveal everything," Dref says, backing slowly toward the window. He reaches out for the connection tying him to the captain, seeking both the comfort of familiarity and testing how much Tiberius can sense. It's possible, though not likely, that Tiberius' aptitude for their family secret will let him understand what's happening between Dref and Vale, and Dref's not going to risk giving a command unless he has to. There's enough Youngblood left in him to know that it's too early to show his hand.

Travis, still a raven, is pecking at the window. Dref doesn't have time to deal with that, so he shuts his eyes briefly, and spends some of his precious strength to silence the changeling.

Tiberius laughs in his face. "You really think we'll let you reveal anything? You really think you'll live long enough for that to even be a concern?" He steps forward again, breaking into Dref's personal space. "I'm going to kill you, Alastair," he says, leaning in, breath warm against Dref's neck. It sends shivers down his spine, but he clenches his jaw in grim resolution.

"You won't," Dref says, sounding far more confident than he feels. "What I know is too valuable. You don't know how much I've told other people about my magic studies, and you can't risk me having set up an insurance policy to broadcast what I know on my death."

"And we'll shut you down right now," Tiberius says, but there's a flicker in his gaze that means Dref's hit on something.

He presses the advantage. "Even if you do kill me, the family will lose access to the best resource on necromancy you've ever had." He notes, in some removed part of his brain, that he's so thoroughly disconnected from Alastair Youngblood that he doesn't even think of himself as part of the Youngblood line anymore.

Tiberius' face twists. "It's a vile, disgusting heresy," he spits. "It's not a resource, it's an abomination. You're an abomination."

Alastair would have broken down in tears. Alastair would have begged for mercy. Dref? Dref's a coward. Dref wants to live as much as Alastair had, but Dref has something to stand for now. He likes this life, likes the sky and likes the crew, and likes doctoring. Necromancy has done nothing but good things for him, and he's not about to give that up without a fight. So Dref Wormwood smiles.

Tiberius kisses him. It's brutal and harsh and there's no love in it, nothing like the mocking kiss to the hand Travis gave him last month like he was a noble, nothing like the kiss on the forehead Gable gave him when last he was tricked into being their teddy bear, nothing like the kiss on the cheek in thanks from Jonnit as he gave the kid a tincture for his hangover. Tiberius kisses him like it's a knife, like he can carve the necromancy out of Dref's heart and make him Alastair again.

The guards shuffling to surround them barely registers. Dref only hears the high-pitched whine of a dog, distressed at walking in on another instance of the younger children screaming and crying beneath their older siblings. Dref doesn't know who started it, whether it was their parents or if it was some age-old rite of passage, if their parents did the oldest themselves or if it was a cousin or someone else, but he does know that Tiberius was not gentle with him the first time. (Tiberius was not gentle with him at all, and Dref figures that won’t change any time soon.)

Tiberius draws back, slowly and deliberately – letting Dref know this is a mercy, something that Tiberius is gifting to him. “You’ll get your wish, Alastair,” he says, lips still too close to Dref’s. “But you won’t enjoy it.” His smile returns, brilliant and sharp and deadly. “Guards. Shackle him. Strip him down to smallclothes and make sure he doesn’t do anything suspicious. If he does, do anything you need to stop him. But I want to kill him myself, you hear?”

Dref casts a look over his shoulder, at the window where the raven Travis had been moments ago. There’s nothing there, no one to witness this humiliation, except Tiberius and the guards and the silence that is Orimar Vale. He tugs on the line that connects his will to the captain.

Orimar Vale stands up to his full height. He’s an imposing man, broad shouldered and over six feet tall, and basically indestructible now that he’s dead. Tiberius doesn’t flinch, brushes aside the captain, and points at Dref. “You’ll leave your… _pet_ here. Or I kill you now.”

Reluctantly, Dref lets go. “Tiberius –”

“Take him to the ship,” Tiberius orders, cutting him off. “Put him in a holding cell, the smallest one we have. I’ll take care of him in the morning.”

Dref knows better than to protest, and follows without too much prodding as his escort sets a punishing pace toward the Red Feather cruiser. Casting a look over his shoulder at the hotel, and his crew, he despairs at the thought of never seeing them again.

A familiar white raven swoops down, clawing at one of the guards. Travis wheels around to face him, and Dref shakes his head, hoping Travis will figure it out: there’s no need for Travis to die fighting for Dref. The raven caws angrily, and Dref bites his lip, stopping himself from calling Travis back.

The raven circles again, making another dive at Tiberius this time, straight at his brother’s eye. Tiberius howls in pain as the raven withdraws, blood staining the white feathers around his beak, and Dref watches a single feather float down as Travis flies off. He stretches out his hand and manages to snatch it before it hits the ground, and before Tiberius sees it.

Dref clutches the feather to his chest, and Alastair walks toward his brother’s ship.


End file.
